Never Say Never

by Victoria Christopher Murray

I walked to my side of the bed, flicked on the nightstand lamp, then turned, to see if the soft light woke him up.

  He didn’t move.

  Gently, I put the iPad on the bed, then strode into my closet. It didn’t take me more than a minute to strip, replace my suit with my favorite USC T-shirt, then climb into bed with my husband.

  In the past, Jamal would feel my presence and wake up. But not tonight.

  I leaned against the headboard and opened my iPad, but I didn’t even hit the e-mail icon. Instead, my eyes stayed on my husband.

  Jamal had always been so sociable, so active. But now, even when I called him during the day, he was in bed. Trying to sleep away his days and his nights. Of course, this was grief, but grief was a spirit that gripped people and kept them wallowing in sorrow. One of the first lessons in Psych 101: the longer a person stayed depressed, the longer it would take them to come out of that state. It had only been a few days, but I wanted Jamal to get up, get out, and get moving.

  Work wasn’t the answer; he hadn’t even been released to return to the fire station, which honestly was fine with me. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted him to return to work. But I had to find something for him to do. Some way for him to begin to make the climb back to his normal life.

  Putting my iPad aside, I rolled over until my body was pressed against his and I kissed his neck. Soft, butterfly kisses that I continued until I felt him stir. When he rolled over and faced me, his eyes were already open.

  For a long moment we just lay there on our sides, face-to-face, staring.

  Finally, I whispered, “Hi.”

  “Hi. You just getting home?”

  I nodded. “It was a long day, but I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  That brought a smile to his face, though he didn’t say anything.

  “What did you do today?” I asked.

  “Not much.”

  Although I was sure that I already knew the answer, I asked, “Did you go out?”

  “No.”

  “Oh . . . I was thinking that maybe you would have gone over to Miriam’s. To check on her and the boys.”

  “No, they’re all right. Mama Cee and Charlie are still here, so they don’t need me.”

  Of course that wasn’t true, but it wouldn’t do any good to tell Jamal that. He already knew it. We needed to talk, though I hesitated because I didn’t want to be his therapist. I just wanted to be his wife. But right now, I wasn’t sure if there was a difference. “Jamal . . .”

  He shook his head, already knowing where I was going. “I don’t want you to be my psychologist, Emily,” he said, like he always did.

  “I promise that’s not what I’m doing, but you can’t keep your grief inside. You need to talk, just talk. And I promise I won’t say anything.”

  He hesitated, and after a few seconds, he began, “I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’m drowning in grief. It’s making me feel crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy. You’re normal.” My words were just instinct. Truly, I had meant to keep quiet like I promised.

  He continued, “Besides you, there’re only two other people in the world that I have truly loved. My grandmother and Chauncey.” He paused. “And now they’re both gone.”

  He sounded so sad, and all I wanted to do was hold him. But if I did that, he would stop talking, and he needed to get this out.

  After a deep sigh, he said, “I should be getting over this . . .”

  “It’s only been a little more than a week,” I said. “Trust me, there’s no expiration date on grief. But you’re going to get through this,” I said, wanting to encourage him. “Your strength is one of the things that I admire about you.”

  “You say that all the time.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “I don’t feel that way right now.”

  “I know. But you know, one of the things that you can do, one of the things that may help, is if you get up and get out. Do some things you like. Go running on the beach, go hang out with some of the guys. Any of those things will help you take your mind off Chauncey, even for just a little while.”

  This time, there was no hesitation. “I don’t know if I want my mind to be taken away.” He reached for me and pulled me close. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “All right,” I said, feeling as if we’d made some progress, even though I wanted more.

  But for now, I just lay in his arms, glad that he’d opened up a little and praying that tomorrow he’d give me a little bit more.

  15

  Miriam

  My telephone hadn’t stopped ringing.

  First, the call had come from Emily, early this morning as she drove to her office. The next one was from Michellelee, as she sat in the back of the town car that took her to the television station each day. Then Pastor Ford, a few members of Hope Chapel, and even some of Chauncey’s firefighter brothers.

  So many calls, but really, it was just one conversation. The calls were so similar, I could have recorded my voice and then just pressed Play without any of them noticing.

  “Hey, Miriam; I was just calling to check on you. How are you?”

  “I’m good.”

  “And the boys?”

  “They’re good, too.”

  At this point, everyone sighed as if they were relieved that they now had permission to carry on with their day and their business. Now they wouldn’t have to worry about being part of some rescue mission to save me and my sons.

  “Well, just know that I’m praying for you,” the calls continued.

  “I know that. Thank you.”

  “Of course, and you know it will get even better with time.”

  Emily had added that she would call me later, Michellelee had said that she was going to stop by after work, and Pastor told me that I could call her at any time if I ever needed anything.

  Then everyone hung up. And though they may have felt better, not one of them knew my truth.

  People probably would have been upset to know that I’d stopped telling them what I was thinking or how I was feeling. They were all tired of hearing it anyway. Of course, no one ever said that, but I could tell that’s how they felt. Their weariness showed in the ways their eyes kind of wandered when they were standing in front of me, or in the pauses I heard on the phone, which let me know they were multitasking and hardly listening.

  It was okay, though. I thought about the number of times I’d had to listen to a grieving spouse, or son or daughter. Listening to someone who had immersed himself in sorrow was a heavy burden for everyone who was around. I got that now. So since the funeral, I kept my cares to myself . . . and Jamal.

  I tossed the Essence that I’d been flipping through aside, then wandered over to the living room window. The sun shone brightly, as if it were proud to be hanging high in the sky on this autumn Friday. I peeked up the street, then turned and looked as far down the street as I could. There was no sign of my sons, though I didn’t really expect to see them.

  I’d been so grateful when Charlie had gathered the boys and taken them all out bike riding about an hour ago. The boys seemed grateful, too, since they hadn’t been out of the house that much. Now, even they were ready to go back to school.

  Turning toward the sofa, I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. But then, I wondered, why was I waiting for Jamal to call? Couldn’t I call him?

  I grabbed the telephone, but when I picked it up, someone was already on the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Miriam.”

  “Jamal!” I exclaimed. “I was just calling you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to check on you,” I said. “For once.”

  “Well, that’s why I was calling you. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much. Charlie took the boys out and Mama Cee is resting, so I was just sitting here and thinking about you.” I paused. That was not exactly what I meant, so I rephrased, “I mean, I was wondering how you were doing.”<
br />
  “I knew what you meant, ’cause I’ve been thinking about you. How’re you feeling?”

  I sighed as I sat on the sofa and tucked my feet beneath me. “It’s been ten days, and I can’t believe this, but my heart hurts more now than when I first found out. All I ever do is cry.”

  “I know,” he said. “I think it’s the shock. It’s wearing off and reality is setting in.”

  “Not that I expected to be over it. I mean, I’m sure it will take years, but I really want to start feeling better. Little by little, I just want to see some sunshine, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Well, everyone says it’ll get better.” I shrugged.

  “Emily thinks that getting out might help. Maybe you need to get out, too. Maybe we can get out of the house together.”

  I swung my legs off the couch. “That would be great. I’ve been staying close to home ’cause it feels safer here. I never know when I’m going to break down.”

  “I just haven’t had the energy to go out.”

  “Energy isn’t my problem. I’ve been doing so much cooking and cleaning and anything I could find to keep my mind off Chauncey.”

  “Maybe I should’ve tried that. I’ve been trying to sleep it away. So, this just proves that Em is right.”

  “Of course she is. Your wife is brilliant,” I said, and we laughed together.

  “Then good. Let’s go out tomorrow. I’m hoping that Emily won’t be working and the three of us can do lunch.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with Mama Cee and Charlie to make sure they’ll be able to watch the boys.”

  “Cool. How much longer are they going to be here?”

  “I don’t know, but not much longer. I worry about Mama Cee and her asthma.” I stopped. This was the point where I could tell Jamal about my move to Arizona, though something inside of me wanted to keep that to myself. So I just said, “I love having them here, but I have to make sure that Mama Cee’s health is okay.”

  “Well, I’ll make sure to see them before they head out. So . . . Em or I will call you back to confirm tomorrow.”

  “Okay!” I hung up the phone feeling just a little bit of hope that some kind of relief from all this grief was on the way.

  I glanced up and was surprised to see Mama Cee standing just a few feet from me. “I thought you were still resting.”

  “I was. Sounds like you’re going out,” she said, still standing in place.

  “Yeah. That was Jamal. He and Emily want to take me out to lunch.”

  Mama Cee nodded before she walked toward her favorite chair. She settled into the cushions. “You need to get out a little bit and I think the three of you can help each other.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. Jamal knows how I feel, and Emily’s been working so hard I’m glad to be able to spend some time with her.”

  “Well, don’t worry about the boys. Charlie was saying something about taking them to Magic Mountain tomorrow.”

  “The boys will love that. But what about you, Mama Cee? I can’t see you getting on any roller coasters.” I laughed.

  She waved her hands. “That’s for you young ones. I don’t mind going to the park, though. I’ll just take my book, sit, and read while Charlie fools around with the boys. It’ll be fun. And it’ll give us time to spend with the boys since we have to head home next week.”

  “I figured Charlie would have to get back to work soon.” I stood and walked toward the foyer. “I’m going to get dinner started.”

  But before I could step away, Mama Cee said, “Have you told the boys about moving to Arizona?”

  I took a moment before I faced her. “No, not yet. I want to work everything out in my mind first. But don’t worry, Mama Cee. We’re moving there. You can count on it.”

  She nodded slowly, but didn’t speak at first. Instead, her eyes stayed on me as if she was trying to see something that I wasn’t saying.

  What was wrong?

  Then suddenly my mother-in-law turned away. She faced the window and her voice was just a whisper when she said, “I hope so, baby. I really, really hope so.”

  16

  Emily

  My toothbrush was in my hand when Jamal entered the bathroom, then eased up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I grinned as we both stared at our reflection in the bathroom mirror. I was only wrapped in a black towel; he wore nothing but his white boxer briefs. Through the mirror, I did what I always did when we stood this way; I marveled at the beauty of our contrasts.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  He responded by pressing his lips against my neck, and then his tongue did small swirls on my skin, sending shivers and memories through me. I closed my eyes, taking in and enjoying each sensation. And then I wondered . . . when was the last time we’d made love?

  Seconds passed in my mind—had the last time been the night of the fire?

  My eyes snapped open. Impossible!

  But when I thought about it some more, it was true. We’d both been so wrapped up. Me, in my work. Him, in his grief. Now, eleven days had passed. For many, that would be no time at all. But for Jamal and me, making love was our way of life. It’s just what we did . . . we ate, we slept, we worked, we smashed.

  This was going to have to be fixed. I missed my husband, but not only that, connecting on that level was always therapeutic. Of course, it would be a stress reliever for me, and it would help Jamal’s pain. That theory wasn’t something that I’d learned in undergrad, grad, or when I’d received my doctorate. That theory wasn’t in any textbook, nor was it part of any study. That theory was what I knew in my gut: sex was great relief from grief.

  So, I needed to get on my job. Tonight. No, this afternoon. As soon as we came back from lunch, I would toss my husband on the bed and have my way with him. Over and over again.

  When Jamal leaned back, a smile was on his face. “Good morning.” He finally spoke his first words to me. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve shared this bathroom in the morning?”

  “I know, babe.”

  When he stepped toward the shower, he said, “I’m just glad you didn’t have to work today.”

  “I have the whole weekend,” I said, then rinsed out my mouth. “I’m so glad to have this little break.”

  “Yeah, you’ve been worried about me, but you need to take care of yourself, too,” he said.

  Turning around, I leaned against the edge of the sink and watched my husband through the clear shower doors. He loved cool showers, so the bathroom never steamed up with him the way it did with me. At this moment, I was grateful for that, and as he lathered up with the soap, I had the chance to appreciate every inch of his excellence.

  If we weren’t going to lunch with Miriam—

  I said, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m going to take care of myself and take care of you, too.”

  For a moment, he stopped what he was doing and grinned. “Watch out now. Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna be starting something. As soon as we get back home.”

  He laughed, then went back to soaping up.

  I said, “I’m really glad we’re taking Miriam out.”

  Jamal replied, “I was hoping to get a chance to see the boys, too, but Mama Cee and Charlie are taking them to Magic Mountain.”

  “That’s cool. I want to spend some time with them, too, since they’re going back to school on Monday.”

  His back was to me now, but I still kept my eyes on my husband. This was the first time I’d heard more happiness than sadness in his voice. Maybe the talk we had helped. And if talking could do this much, what would sexing do?

  If I didn’t stop thinking about sex, we’d never make it to lunch. Turning away, I rushed into our bedroom. I needed to be dressed before my husband got out of the shower.

  Less than forty-five minutes later, we were in Jamal’s car, heading down La Brea toward Inglewood. As he drove, we didn’t say a word, at least not out loud. Jamal d
rove with one hand, and with the other, he held mine. Every few minutes, he squeezed, letting me know how much he loved me. Every time, I squeezed back. I didn’t even have to look at him. We knew what we meant to each other.

  He didn’t let go of me until he stopped the car in front of Chauncey and Miriam’s house; that’s how I still thought of it. One day, I’d see it as just Miriam’s home. But not yet. I guess that was my own grief, my own way of holding on for a little longer.

  I hopped out of the car and knocked on the front door.

  “Hey, honey,” I said the moment Miriam opened it. I hugged her tightly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “It’s great to see you,” she said with an enthusiasm that I hadn’t heard in the almost two weeks since Chauncey had been gone.

  I stepped back to get a better look at my friend. This was as good as I’d heard Miriam sound, and this was certainly as good as she’d looked. She was wearing an outfit that I’d never seen before—a long, T-strap sundress with all the colors of fall. Her low-heeled gold sandals were the perfect accent, along with her hoop earrings, which were such a change from the little pearls she always wore.

  Who was this girl?

  “You look terrific.”

  “Do I?” she asked, smoothing back her hair, which was still in her signature bun.

  “Yeah, you really do. So, you’re ready to go?”

  She nodded and I put my arm around her shoulders after she locked the door. Then we moved toward the car, almost skipping like schoolgirls.

  I had no idea what was helping Miriam to ease out of her grief, but whatever it was, I wanted to grab some and squeeze it into a bottle, so that I could use it as needed: a little for Jamal, a little for Miriam, when necessary.

  Jamal stood, holding the car doors open for both of us. “Check out Ms. Miriam,” I said.

  As he reached out to hug her, my cell phone rang. Before I even looked down at the screen, I knew it was trouble. I held up a finger. “I have to take this.”

  Jamal nodded as I moved a few steps away.

  “Doctor Harrington!”

  The urgency in Mr. Miller’s voice brought tears to my eyes. “Mr. Miller! What’s wrong?”